


Words and Acts

by candlelight27



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Biting, Björn - Freeform, F/M, Harald (mentioned), Lagertha - Freeform, NSFW, Porn With Plot, Reader-Insert, Romance, Smut, Ubbe - Freeform, Vaginal Sex, Vikings, astrid - Freeform, some spanking, there's definitely more plot than I intended, what else can I say xd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 06:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10354182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlelight27/pseuds/candlelight27
Summary: You constantly tease Ivar. He's constantly angry at you. What will break the act?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ifinkufreaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifinkufreaky/gifts).



> Here Ivar is older than in the show, that's the only change. This is my first fic of Ivar so tell me what you think! enjoy ~~

The Great Hall was lit by torches. Everybody was eating as if tomorrow would never come, tension floating around along uncertainty. From the other corner of the room, a pair of eyes bluer than the open skies was observing you. You took in your hand a bronze cup and slowly drank the mead inside. A condescending smile was your answer to his menacing demeanour. You lowered your cup, licked your lips and held Ivar’s stare. It always made him furious, that someone didn’t find him as terrifying as he thought he was.

Then a voice caught your attention.

“It is a dangerous game the one you are playing, [Name].” Astrid commented with a visible frown.

“I do not know what you mean by that.” You filled your mouth but the action didn’t stop her from pressing further.

“It is not wise to provoke Ivar.” You took another gulp of mead. Your attempt to ignore her was failing. “I heard you mocking him. You are supposed to just watch him, not getting him to kill you.”

“Simply watching people is very boring. I need a form of amusement.”

“His temper-”

You shortened the distance between your faces and whispered.

“Ivar is not going to kill me.”

Astrid looked at Lagertha pleading help. The queen had indeed been listening but didn’t consider an intervention timely; your doings were no secret to her.

“Let her do as she will. She must have her reasons…” She added and her loyal shieldmaiden didn’t dare to speak about the matter anymore.

The conversation became more lighthearted as the cups and jars were being finished off. Spirits were rising: most of them would feast, you were sure, for it was possible that their way to the Valhalla was closer than they thought.

You cast another glance over the sons of Ragnar. This time Sigurd was pouting while the youngest had a satisfied expression. You had spent enough time with them to know what had exactly happened, for it was in the nature of the brothers upsetting each other. You observed Ivar in deep thought.

Your ever playful disposition dropped. The incident had been close to disaster. The dagger cold cutting the skin of your throat, the thuds of Ivar’s stakes, the darkness in everybody. He had looked at you, but you had not known what it meant. In your belly, a cold fear had spread. Yet it was not because your plan had been about to break into pieces. It was fear for Ivar, for the consequences his actions could hold against him.

You hated that unnecessary worry. Perhaps that was the reason you had been more cruel towards him thas morning.

Since Ivar was too engrossed in tormenting his own brother, you tried to concentrate on the tails of the latest raid. With great vigour, Björn had been describing Algeciras to his mother, who pleasantly listened. Some others had been narrating the different stages of the pillage. You attempted to steal the interest of the youngest of Ragnar’s sons again but he ignored you. You wondered if this was deliberated because since some weeks ago whenever you were in sight he wouldn’t stop paying you attention. Whether it was insults, threats or simple glances, you did not complain but mimicked him.

 

At the moment a girl had started to dance, Ivar went away. Once he crawled out of the Great Hall, you turned to Lagertha, knowing she didn’t want another attack. She nodded. Björn tried to ask you a silent question, but his confusion found no reply. You refilled your cup, drink it, stood and made your way out.

Ubbe saw the movement. He took your wrist in his warm hand. His cheeks displayed a characteristic flush, yet by his eyes you could tell his mind was as sharp as ever.

“He is still angry.” He stated not letting you go. “You know that, despite your loyalties, I appreciate you.”

“Let him be angry. It still is my duty to keep you from conspiring another time.” A sweet smile crept upon your lips.

“He can’t conspire alone.” Ubbe turned around at last, leaving the decision to you, and you kept walking. All of that you knew; everything your decisions implied you knew.

 

Even though he was a cripple, Ivar moved agile and fast. You could only guess the direction he took in the middle of the night. The ground was cold, your feet freezing through your boots. You found Ivar under the threshold of the place the sons of Ragnar called home. His breath was rugged and vapour left his lips. He didn’t even face you, he already knew your footsteps.

“Go away, you slut.” He said with all the venom he was able to muster.

“I wouldn’t be here if I had other option, you impotent.” You lied.

Ivar closed his fists. Ignoring your insult, or rather too angered to discuss it, he entered. You followed him. The inside was dark, unwelcoming. So much like the Viking before you.

“If you are going to stay at least do something useful and light the fire.” His voice was low, deeply disturbed. You wished you had bitten your tongue that morning, the reason he was irritated, alas your impulses had taken the best of you as usual. However you did this time and gathered the logs to start warming the room.

As the sparks cracked you moved away. You sat against a wall, which allowed you to observe Ivar. He was struggling to heat a couple of buckets of water, but unless he asked for your help you would not offer it.

“Go away.” He ordered another time.

“I told you-”

“I know what that usurper pretends. She doesn’t want Ubbe and I alone. That’s why she has your annoying ass after me or him all the time.” He stopped to take his gauntlets off. While your eyes pierced him he refused to look at you.

“Then what’s the matter?”

“Be a nuisance to Ubbe, not me.”

“You are more fun to annoy.” You let out a hearty laugh. “Besides… I don’t feel like watching him drunkenly grope Margrethe.” Ivar ground his teeth at the mention of her name, the reaction you were expecting.

“Stay outside in that case. I’m going to bath.” This time his words were louder and more impatient.

“I don’t want to. It’s cold.” You sighed. “Can you even bath alone?”

“Fuck off. You are just like the rest. You don’t want to miss the show of the cripple, don’t you?”

“If I’m like the rest, why would you care about what I want?” You crossed your arms, decided not to move.

He huffed. Whereas you didn’t want to display any care, the hurt in his irises unchained your change of heart. You stood up in order to help him. He was confused due to the sight of you carrying the buckets of hot water to the wooden bathtub.

The cripple started to undress. You turned your head by reflex. The sound of Ivar discarding his tunic reached your ears, what elicited a blush from you.

“Do you need help to get inside?” Hardly a whisper was your question, just like the ‘yes’ he replied.

He had let his breeches on, although the leather straps were scattered all around the same as his weapons and clothes. His bare chest gleamed under the orang light. He seemed distrusting at your approach, nothing too strange because for all he knew you could be there just to sink him in his misery even more. Nevertheless, Ivar was not a meek lamb either. He had reaped what he sowed.

Ignoring his visible doubts he placed one of his strong arms around your shoulders. Somehow he had managed to reach the brim of the bathtub where he fell plucked. The water had spilt you and the floor. You sat leaning on the wood, closing your eyes halfway. The soft crackling of the fireplace interrupted the calmness of the night and it seemed to sway you into sleep.

“Do you know why I haven’t killed you yet?” He pronounces this with a smirk, you could tell.

“Surprise me.”

Even if your dull answer threw him off, Ivar continued.

“The only reason why I don’t kill you is because once I am king you will be my slave and I will make you suffer as the whim takes me.”

“I’m impatiently waiting.” You giggled. Maybe it was the mead, still in your system. Maybe it was your heart, asking for empathy. Maybe you just were fed up of the pretending. “But the real reason is that you like me.”

“I hate you, filthy woman.”

“Liar.” You put all the emphasis you could on your accusation. “You enjoy my company as much as I enjoy yours, cripple. Why do you refuse to admit it?”

“You are the enemy.”

“Am I?” He didn’t say anything in return.“I don’t care about your thoughts…” Another lie. “Just keep yourself alive.”

“I try to.” He blurted sardonically.

“Not enough. That trick you tried to pull with Ubbe was foolish. You are an intelligent man, Ivar. But you let anger misguide your actions. If you want to kill Lagertha, wait. The time will present itself, and deep inside you’ve noticed it too.”

“What do you know of revenge?”

 “I know more than you think.”

“Tell me.”

The conversation was arriving to dark shores. You didn’t wish to reveal your past to Ivar, but maybe like this he would listen to you.

“I was in other time the bastard daughter of a king. He was kind to me, always. When I joined the last Eastern raid he was killed. My oldest brother tried to avenge him right away. It only resulted in his death. He didn’t listen to me, his anger made him deaf to my advice… He should have waited, just like you.” You heard movement in the water.

“I don’t get it. You should be by my side!”

“I can’t.”

 “You know the hate for usurpers-”

“The one who killed my father was Harald Finehair. Ivar, I need Kattegat to remain strong or I’ll never see him drowning in his own blood.”

“I will end his life if you remain loyal to me.”

“No. This I must do it my way.”

Ivar suddenly threw himself out of the bathtub, landing over you and trapping you between his body and the floor.

The tepid water covered you completely. The Viking caught his knife and held it still against your throat. Drops from his dark hair fell upon you. His face, twisted in pain, was too close to yours. He pressed the blade harder.

“How do you feel? The almighty [Name], always beyond every one of us, with her sharp tongue and calculating mind. How do you feel when I could slit your throat and break all your damn plans?” A spit landed next to you. “I want to hate you. I really want to hate you!” He shouted at you.

You couldn’t stand it anymore, the tension had long ago passed the breaking point. Whilst the action made his knife cut deeper into your skin, you kissed him. He freed the weapon in his hand and, despite his surprise, quickly responded to your lips.

He was rough. Soon his mouth was pushing yours in an attempt to steal the control. Not long after, his tongue found your skin. He traced it and spread his saliva along your bottom lip until you offered him an entrance. He explored every corner, from your gums and teeth to the roof. He was overwhelming, turning the kiss into a combat. He proceeded to suck your tongue when he realized he had won, ending it with a light nip, again at your reddened lip.  

“Say what you want of me, Ivar, son of Ragnar. Yet all you do is take, even when you can’t have.”

“Isn’t that what us, Vikings, do?”

He ravished your mouth, this time not keeping his hands to himself. You dared to move yours too, and found his biceps and his bare shoulders. Ivar tugged at your tunic, therefor you took it off. He took the sight in as a new thirst was born in his eyes.

He sat back and you crawl towards him. You straddled his lap, your naked torsos brushing, your incisors sinking into his neck. He grunted, a sound you loved and wanted to steal from him as much as you could. You shifted your whole body; he grabbed your breasts as response. He kneaded them to make you moan, and as a result you left the spot where lovebites were already forming.

While you leant back, Ivar smiled at you, lost in his own lust. You lightly scrapped a way from his collar bone down his navel, passing his nipple and pinching it. All the same he caught your wrist before you could approach his manhood.

“Ivar?” You questioned.

“It’s not hard.”

You stayed motionless, not knowing what to do. This was a fragile subject, one you had taken too much advantages in your arguments with Ivar. Without any warning he grasped your hair in one fist. His jaws were clenching.

“You have been laughing at me because of this for a long time. Where are your witty comments now?” He exhaled hate between every word. “Or are you going to run to my brothers and then share the joke?”

You felt the indignation burst out of you. Consequently you slapped him. A red mark appeared in his cheek and he only tighten his grip on your hair.

“If after all we’ve talked you still think like this, I’m afraid you are not as intelligent as I thought.” Then you grabbed his cock though the fabric and bared your teeth. “It looks like it’s getting harder now. Do you want me to slap you one more time?”

Ivar, instead of answering, pulled your breeches down, releasing your arse. He didn’t waste time and spanked one side. It didn’t hurt; it only added fire to the desire inside your core. His palm soothed you skin and dug his fingers in the flesh.

“You seem to enjoy it likewise.” He did smack it again and you moaned. He dropped your hair.

You took your own knife hidden in your pants to cut the laces that kept his together. As you passed the edge you felt him getting ready, a wet spot forming. You removed the rest of his clothing and yours. He was reluctant at first, because he disliked the idea of showing you his legs. A chaste kiss on his lips and a reassuring smile was all it took for him to relax.

The man finally reacted. He spat in his hand and covered his length in the wetness. You were ready for him, so you put your hands on his shoulders to secure yourself. In a swift motion you positioned your opening right upon him. His breath sped up at your warmth, which was threatening to wrap around him.

“[Name]…” He practically growled. In that moment, you lowered your body.

Ivar was immersed in you, a shot of pleasure ripping through both of your guts. His hands on your breasts teasing your nipples, his flushed face chiselled into enjoyment, his chest heaving… The world was reduced to you two.

You were the one who started to move. Up, feeling him slide out of you only to go down as before, creating a delicious friction. Ivar had started to leave all kind of sounds, just like yourself. It was slow and methodical at first. Yet it all ended up as a frantic mix of pounds, grabs and thrusts as his hips were shoved upwards.

He kissed you again and you could have sworn that he was trying to eat you. You couldn’t contain yourself anymore and were jumping on his lap. His guttural noises complemented your high-pitched ones. The air was heavy, the light was losing its strength.

Amidst the cries and the euphoria, something moved across the entrance of the hut.

You spun your head, and so did Ivar, but none of you stopped. It was Ubbe. His face expounded utter shock. He opened his eyes widely, given that this was the last scene he was expecting at his return.

“Get the fuck out, brother.”

He couldn’t move a muscle. Considering that Ivar was stopping, you threw one of the knives that lay around you at Ubbe to make him react. It stabbed the part of the wall next to him and took him out of his trance.

“Keep your mouth shut about this.” It turned out a moan, but you were sure the sibling would have a good chat about this; your intervention was pure ornament.

You could hear him saying outside ‘I thought he was stabbing you!’ He would probably go back to the Great Hall now. It wasn’t late, the feast must have been far from over.

“I am in fact stabbing you, right?” Ivar fixed his pupils on you and smiled. “Come here. That was so hot.” He bit your neck, surely leaving a red mark.

“You really do like some action, huh?” You laughed, too absorbed in your current situation with Ivar to care about anything else.

He answered your pounds with tougher ones. As if it was a reward for your behaviour, he found your sensitive bundle of nerves and circled it. He was merciless in his efforts, causing a familiar knot forming in your belly. Another bite of Ivar made you lose it. The tingling spread inside you, and a particular loud shout left you. The man was completely lost in you, his own orgams fast approaching. He pulled out, his seed all over the floor and your back.

The Viking stretched his arms in order to hug you. You pecked his nose meanwhile he bent down to lie on the floor.

“One day we’ll be on the same side.” He said before he could even catch his breath. It was pronounced nonchalantly, on the contrary you sensed his preoccupation beneath that statement.

“Ivar…”

“Don’t you want to?” Your arms flew and encircle his head so he was resting on your chest.

“Of course I want to.” You kept your tone sweet. “What’s wrong Ivar?”

“How do you feel about me?” You nearly chuckled. He hugged you tighter, and there it was, the broken boy that was buried under his fierce manners. A soft caress along his hair seemed to calm him.

“I think I already proved my feelings about you.”

“Will you forget me? When I go to England to avenge my father?” You had been dreading the day, but the solution had come to you at last.

“No, Ivar. Because I’m going with you.”

“What? Lagertha is not going to-”

“I was planning it. After all, I need to keep an eye on Harald… She won’t deny me that.” He was still restless. You offered him something he’d like better. “Then I thought that if my main entertainment in Kattegat left, I’d be bored to dead.”

“You are a fine entertainment too.” He bit your clavicle as you giggled. “I wonder what fate will provide us.”


End file.
